I’ll start off by saying first off that I am drunk as a skunk. i KNOW i’m viloting several rules here, especially the rule about not drinking and blogging, but I just need to get it out. Your’e probabloy wondering why I’m drinking so heavily on a Monday night. If i knew the answer, I probably wouldnt’[ be drinkiing. Or maybe I’d be drinking even more. My point is that a bunch of things happened today and I don’t know where to start. First there’s this blog which is like a fucking albatross. One of the reasons I’m so alone is that part of me needs to be fucking alone. Then there’s Richard. I asked him why he was crying this morning and we had a pleasant conversation going and I was thinking that Richard might be my first real friend since I was a kid. I dont want go into any details but I decided to tell him about J.B., the guy who was at the xmas party with Jane, and Richard started laughing. Long story short, Richard is a homosexual, J.B. is a homosexual (Richard assured me that this was true in vivid cock smocking detail), and Jane is still available or at least I think she is. My heart almost popped out of my chest which surprised me because I thought I was getting over her. So then I went to a bar after work and I don’t know if you knew this but there’s no such thing as a Cheers bar where everyone knows each other, at least no bar I’ve been too. I’ve been drinking at Black Cat Cove at least a couple dozen times and let’s just say that no one shouts “Harlan” when I walk into the bar and if someone did shout “Harlan” no one would know who the fcuk they’re talking about, the dipshit losers. So I was sitting at the bar looking at my reflection in the mirror behind the rum bottles, and I fucking hated what I saw. I was trying to find my real face inside the bloated face and I wanted to throw my glass at the mirror. Not even tequila shots would make that feeling go away. The guys next to me were badmouthing George W. Bush and I wouldn’t take any more so I almost said something and left. And then I got home and the phone was ringing and for some crazy reason I decided to pick up. It was my brother. In my mind I was saying to him, “Fuck off you fucking fuck,” but my mouth told him that I love him and miss him and I’m sorry, which is totatlly crazy because he’s the one who needs to be sorry. I even agreed to visit him in a couple weeks. I’m sure I’ll be mad at myself when I’m sober even though right now I’m kind of excited to see Becky. Maybe I’ve gotten over her betrayal. I already feel like I’m getting sobver so I’m going to click Submit and go wonder around and puke in that nosy woman’s mailbox again.